


ὕβριϛ ϕυτεύει τύραννον

by bbwrites



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Ancient Greek, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Love/Hate, M/M, Out of Character, POV Second Person, bunny... hate that bitch..., henry... also hate that bitch, probably... yeah, this is... bad, toxic masculinity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 16:02:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14047824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbwrites/pseuds/bbwrites
Summary: You almost want to apologize but an apology is far too late.(bunny & henry, post bacchanal)





	ὕβριϛ ϕυτεύει τύραννον

**Author's Note:**

> me, returning to writing with this dumpster fire. nice.
> 
> also, i'm rolling in with recommended reading: https://payhip.com/b/mQbD :-)

Bunny's hair is sweat slick, his head cradled in your hands.

"You loved me once, didn't you?" his words are choked out, the two of you sprawled on the floor. You think he's sobbing and maybe you are, too. 

_I have to do this_ , you remind yourself, but even then you think of his smiles. They're rarer now, and you're not sure who's fault that is. 

 

 When you push him you think of the first time you kissed him, somewhere close. The memory entwines with his fall. You almost regret what you did. Almost.

 

Before the funeral, Marion cries. Long hours of non-stop tears. The night before Bunny's funeral is the worst and at exactly midnight, you find her crying in the hall. 

"I understand," you say.

"No you don't," she's angry, "You didn't love him, he didn't love you."

_I loved him and he loved me, maybe_ , is what you want to say. Instead you say, "We were best friends."

"That's not the same."

You disagree. 

 

At his funeral you want to say: _I loved him and I hated him and I killed him and I don't know if I regret i_ t. You don't say it, in the end, and you feel sick. 

You bear his casket and you wan't to cry, but you don't. Men don't cry. Bunny said that to you two nights before he died, before you killed him. He was crying, or maybe you just remembered it that way.

 

Your life ends up completely fucked, everything falls apart so fast. Julian hates you and Charles wants you dead and you've never believed in karma but now you think you do.

The day you die you wake up tangled in Camilla's arms and you almost think that things might be okay.

But then Charles comes and you know that this is it. You know that you won't make it out of this hotel room. 

When you get the gun, you know that you need to die- ὕβριϛ ϕυτεύει τύραννον. 

You call Camilla over and you tell her, whispering, praying to whatever god that will listen to you that she will take it to the grave.

"I loved him," you say, because it is true. 

Then you kiss her, confusing her more. You tell her, "I love you," because that is also true.

You put the gun to your temple, you squeeze the trigger. You wish you died immediately.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ὕβριϛ ϕυτεύει τύραννον- sophocles. This translates to "Hubris produces the tyrant"


End file.
